Phoenix Rises
by Tiriol
Summary: In 1944 the tide of war had turned against the Germans and Poland seeks to free himself from Germany's rule. The Warsaw Uprising is at hand. Poland's spirit will never yeild, his thirst for freedom will outlive tyrants and despots.


**Axis Powers Hetalia: Phoenix Rises  
**

_It is 1944 and the place is Warsaw, the capital of German-occupied Poland. It is time for Poland his countrymen to fight against the occupiers one last time, to hold the line against the night._

Hungry men, women and children huddled together while the sounds of bombardment and artillery strikes echoed through a once proud city, now brought to brink of utter ruin, its tall buildings and proud statues reduced to rubble by the Germans. Smoke filled the sky and barely any sunlight could pass through it. Warsaw was a city under siege, a battlefield where the desire for freedom fought against the wrath of bloody conquerors.

Whatever hope the Poles might have felt when they first took up arms against the hated Nazi war machine had all but disappeared: the Allies weren't coming to help. The accursed Soviets had halted their own advance once they reached the outer limits of Warsaw, allowing the Germans to avenge themselves upon the insurrection. The Polish resistance was near total collapse now when the wrath of the German military had been cast upon it.

Despair, sorrow, feeling of tiredness… And grim resolve. Poland will not surrender. Poles will not surrender. Germans will pay with their blood for their crimes and their invasion.

One person stood up in front of the hungry and tired crowd. His uniform was dirty and bloody, his once straight and well-combed hair messy. But his eyes were still gleaming with the same optimism as always. With the same determination as always. Let the German army come; he would face it and no matter how badly he would be beaten he would rise again. He would not submit.

"Hey guys", Poland said and flashed a self-assured smile. "Don't be, like, all gloomy. The Germans aren't gonna leave on their own. We must show 'em the way out."

Half-hearted smiles and even faint laughter greeted Poland.

"I don't know about ya, but I'm not gonna stop now", he continued. "I mean we have, like, given the Krauts a bloody nose so we'd better continue."

"You know that we won't be able to drive them off", a man's voice said. "No matter what we do they'll still win. We need help."

Poland had to steel himself to keep the smile on his face. The man was correct, but there was no way in hell that Poland would surrender.

"Nyaaaah… Maybe", Poland finally answered. "But I don't wanna be remembered as a nation that lacked courage to go all the way. I mean, do ya wanna be remembered as people who were oppressed and when they had their chance, they were half-hearted about it? The tea drinker has kept going for, like, how many years again? "

This didn't stir people up as much as Poland had hoped.

"Okay, listen", he said without his usual smile. "I know things look awful right now. OK, not just awful, but really insanely awful. But we've always managed to, like, come back from the brink of defeat, haven't we? Poland and Poles are always gonna be here, no matter what Germans and Russians or anyone else say. We're like that big bird, that phoenix thing, that is born again in ashes and fire. "

He then straightened his back and took up a rifle. "Besides, I'm gonna go there fighting anyway. Let Germany come to take me down if he wants, I'm not gonna do that for him. And besides, I don't wanna have a Soviet dictator instead of a Nazi one. If we now fight, we may be free before Russia and his troops arrive." Yes, there was truth in his words: it would be useless to trade one murderous tyrant to another.

One by one the members of the resistance army rose to their feet and took up their own weapons. They all knew what Poland meant. It was possible, even likely, that they would all perish, being gunned down by the German soldiers or murdered in their camps. But they would fight. The world would remember Poland and his people as courageous to the very end when all hope had already faded.

England's Prime Minister had talked about England's finest hour when he and his people stood up to Germany. But this was Poland and his people's finest hour. Death and glory would await them.

_At the outskirts of the city of Warsaw...  
_

Russia kept watching the city of Warsaw through his binoculars. He saw the fires raging in the city, he saw the fighting between the Germans and the Poles. He saw the Nazi banners burning and the flags of the Polish resistance being torn down by the hateful soldiers of the Third Reich. He smiled.

"Comrade, shouldn't we advance and help the Poles to fight against Nazis?" a Soviet officer near him asked.

"_Njet_", Russia answered and smiled again. "If Germany now breaks Poland, Poland will be ever so grateful for me when I rescue him. He will become a happy and loyal friend."  
"As you wish, Comrade", the officer answered. The answer didn't make much sense to him, but then again, Russia was a hard man to understand.

"Soon, my pretty Poland, soon", Russia purred. He would soon have a new friend.

_At the Allied HQ..._

England and America sat in silence around a small table, staring at a map of Poland. Miniature soldiers marked where Germany's armies were, where Soviet troops were and where the Poles still held their ground.

"This sucks", America said. "I want to help Poland, not to stare at a map while he's being overrun!"

"Don't blame me", England answered angrily. "It was your bosses who said that we couldn't help them or Russia would get angry with us." England still remembered the bitterness and the embarrassment when he and France couldn't protect Poland in 1939. And now it was happening again. The world was unjust.

"Does he have any chance on his own?" America then asked. "You've said that the Polish resistance is strong."

England nodded, but his gloomy demeanour told America enough. "Yes, the resistance is strong, but to oppose the might of Germany's military alone? No chance. Poland won't be able to stand up against Germany, not for long. That brute will beat him to a bloody smear on the ground."

After the brief discussion the brothers continued looking at the map. This was not a proud day for the Allied cause. To win the war they had to sacrifice one of its victims again.

_In the city of Warsaw..._

Poland was running with artillery shells exploding all around him, with bullets flying through the air and screams of the wounded and of the dying filling his ears. Both Germans and Poles were dying by the hundreds. But of course the Germans had the advantage – superiority of numbers, superiority of equipment, superiority of training. But Poland and the Poles were not about to give up.

Poland raised his rifle and shot a German trooper who had appeared out of nowhere. Poland didn't get any satisfaction from that action, however: Germans were crushing the resistance under their iron heels. Poland's countrymen were dying or taken into captivity. What fate had in store for them, he couldn't tell – but they had fought valiantly and didn't complain. They had known the risks and the price for this act of defiance.

Poland halted. He was surrounded by the ruins of a once proud and majestic building, which Nazis had defaced with their loathsome swastika banners. But that wasn't why he had stopped.

In front of him, before a burning building, stood Germany, flanked by Prussia and Austria. Germany's face was as set in stone, so hard and cold it was; Prussia's smirk was almost non-existent and Austria looked even more serious than usual.

"This madness will end now", Germany snarled. Poland raised his rifle and shot, but he had spent all his bullets. Prussia smirked condescendingly and it infuriated Poland.

"End now? Are ya kiddin' me?" Poland let out a forced laugh. Then he ran towards Germany, feeling the hot air around him as he approached the raging fire. He tried to hit Germany with his rifle, but the taller man stopped the hit by simply grapping the rifle and wresting it away from Poland.

"No, I'm not kidding", Germany said and hit Poland to the stomach. Terrible pain spread from the point of impact all around Poland's body and he nearly collapsed with anguish. "This ends now. You and your uprising are finished."

"Never!" Poland shouted and hit Germany to face. His fist met Germany's face, but the taller man didn't even move. He didn't flinch and his expression didn't change. Germany's only reaction was to wipe a small stream of blood that had come out of his mouth.

"Why are you doing this?" Germany shouted and hit Poland again, this time knocking the smaller man to the ground. "Do you realize how much trouble you've caused me? Soviets are soon here and then you decided to start this ruckus! Do you want to be ruled by Bolsheviks, by Russia and his boss?"

Poland groaned with pain and panted, but raised his head and answered. "Of course not, you idiot! But I ain't gonna be your Führer's backyard no more! Both Stalin and your boss are tyrants and I won't serve either!"

Germany shook his head. "You are stupid and arrogant little thing, aren't you?" he said with contempt in his voice. "You don't have any choice in the matter." Then he turned around a bit to give orders to Austria and Prussia. "Round up the rest of the insurgents and reinforce the fortifications. The Red Army will come soon enough and we must-"

"No choice?" Poland said and laughed coldly. "Yeah, ya know about those things, don't ya? Ya like to take away choices, ya and your precious leader."

Germany had stopped talking. He turned to face Poland again and a feeling of imminent threat hanged now in the air.

"Enough", he said threateningly.

"Why? Is the big strong Germany like afraid to hear about the things he has done? Ya never gave any choice to those children and women and men and priests and Jews whom ya sent to your camps, did ya?"

"Shut up", Germany said and took a step towards Poland, still on his knees and hands on the ground.

"Yeah, I thought so", Poland laughed. Then he spat at Germany's boots. "What did those poor people do to ya or to your Führer? What did my people do to ya both? Gotta ask from ya 'cause I can't ask from 'em any more. They're all dead. Did ya like it when you gased them? Did ya like it when ya shot all those prisoners and children?"

"Shut up!" Germany shouted and started to maul Poland with his fists. Soon Poland was covered in bruises, blood leaked from his mouth and his nose and the surroundings of his eyes were bruised as well. And still Germany continued.

"You little insignificant… meaningless... bastard" Germany snarled and kept on hitting Poland, even raising him from the ground to hit his face better. Prussia and Austria, worried about Germany's outburst, tried to stop the bigger man, but they were like ragdolls hanging on Germany's arms, so great the man's hate was. "I had to follow orders! I had no choice!"

Finally Germany threw Poland to the ground and took his pistol from its holster and aimed at Polands forehead.

"West, don't!" Prussia said and grapped Germany's hand. "It isn't worth it. He's beaten already."

Germany's arm was shaking, emotions fought for dominance on his face. Finally Germany lowered his arm and turned away.

"Take him as a prisoner", he ordered Prussia and Austria. "And raize this city to the ground." Then he turned and walked away, disappearing from sight, concealed by fire and smoke.

Poland laid on the ground, only dimly aware of what was happening around him. Pain was all-encompassing, but he smiled despite it: he had not surrendered. He would be free.

As Prussia and Austria grapped Poland and tried to raise him up, Poland saw something, something strange and yet so fitting. A red Nazi banner had caught on fire and now the flames were devouring away the swastika. They burned away the blood-red cloth and somehow Poland knew that the Nazi reign would soon be over, as well. Soviet rule would follow, but he would survive. Neither Germany nor Russia would rule him. He would be free.

And there, amidst all the flames that devoured the hated banner, he saw it. A great eagle-like creature, crowned and proud, born again from the ashes of the old to see what future had in store for it. Like that noble creature Poland would survive from this great fire and he would be there when the future would come to call for him.

Just before he lost his consciousness, before the darkness covered his eyes, Poland's smile widened and he whispered something to his captors:

"The phoenix rises..."


End file.
